Thursday, 28 August 2014

It's time to buy that one-way ticket, other voice says.

No other choice is left for Iraqis who still live on this cursed land only to leave. I have been lying to myself all these years that the country would be better. I acknowledge that I was wrong.

It sounds that the crazed psycho Sunni killers will not be dislodged easily from any area and their presence will draw an international coalition to fight them in a protracted war that none can imagine its consequences.

Also, there is no sign that the brainwashed Shiite militias, who see all Sunnis are terrorists, will disappear especially after enjoying the blessing of the influential Shiite cleric, Grand Ayatollah Ali Al-Sistani. Though Al-Sistani's decree stipulates that they have to work only with the security forces, but a lot of their leaders and members will definitely have a different interpretation.

Amid all that, the fate of Baghdad where I live is still unclear. Who will grab it, how and when? This is the big question in the minds of its residents.

But what is clear to me now is that I have to save my two little daughters. Whenever I look at them I feel like I'm committing a crime for keeping them grow up here.

The eldest is kept using the word "Daesh" (the Arabic acronym for the Islamic State group) whenever she plays with others. Though she still doesn't know what does it mean and puts it as "Daesh Team" but I don't know what she is going to learn when she starts school few weeks ahead.

I feel like there are two voices quarrelling in my head.

The first: "Go! You have to leave that sinking ship."

The second: "Man, you are not the only one aboard. There are millions living the same situation just like you. It's not that easy to start a new life in diaspora...etc"

The first: "Of course the road will not be paved at the beginning, but at least you will guarantee your daughters' future. Can you guarantee that your eldest daughter will not get the real meaning of the word Daesh or what do the words Sunni and Shiite mean in coming months and how that will affect her thinking and then her entire life?"

The second: "Do you imagine what will happen to your parents who adore your kids and can't imagine a day without playing with them? Do you remember how they became ill when you raised the immigration issue few years ago?"

The first: "It's time to buy that one-way ticket. Yes, your parents will be sad at he beginning but later they will be happy when they see their grandchildren living healthy life with a bright future."

That quarrel was like a drumming noise inside my head over the past months until they reached a deal and both agreed on one opinion.

"OK, since immigration process usually takes time so submit your papers, don't tell your parents about the plan and when you get approved you can reevaluate the situation."

“We called it our Berlin Wall,” said Saad Khalef, 41, told The NYT on March 6 story as he surveyed the newly uncovered ground where the walls had stood, as crushed and pale as the skin beneath a bandage. “Now we can breathe easy. Yesterday, I felt a breeze coming through, I swear to God.”The NYT's Anthony Shadid in a piece on Jan. 6, 2011 two days after Muqtada Al-Sadr's return from nearly four-year self-imposed exile in Iraq: In 2004, an American spokesman in Baghdad called Mr. Sadr “a two-bit thug.” On Wednesday, the State Department spokesman, Philip J. Crowley, called him “the leader of an Iraqi political party that won a number of seats in the March 2010 election.”